


all of the moments i've stolen with you

by mvsp



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Idk depends on the chapter, One Shot, Post-Canon, or not! Up to you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:09:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvsp/pseuds/mvsp
Summary: One-shots of Rollisi!
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Amanda Rollins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	1. and you know, i wanna ask you to dance right there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fin's wedding is coming up, and Amanda does not plan on dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello :D i hope you are doing well, reader !! please enjoy :~) <3

“I’m not gonna dance.”

Dominick stopped cold in his tracks, halfway to the fridge, and turned towards Amanda mid-step.

“Whaddaya mean you’re not gonna dance?” He squinted in response, and she scoffed, shifting in her seat.

“I said I’m not gonna dance.”

“It’s Fin’s wedding, ‘Manda,” he retorted, “you have to dance.”

He shot her a skeptical look as he finished his step to the refrigerator and swung the door open. Pulling out a mason jar filled with deep red marinara sauce, he casually tossed the dish towel in his hand over his shoulder.

Amanda worked quickly to find an excuse, before settling on, “The girls are gonna be there, I’ll be keeping an eye on ‘em.”

Unfortunately, Dominick saw right through her, and let out a short chuckle that could have only meant _c’mon_. “Uh huh, along with Liv, Kat, Sienna, Lucy, and about a million other people who can keep an eye on ‘em too.”

Laughing, Amanda swiftly sidestepped this point, and replied, “why do you want me to dance so bad?”

As his face blushed nearly as red as the sauce he now pouring into a pot, she knew she had gotten a leg up. This was just how their conversations were, sometimes; when you put a prosecutor and a detective experienced with interrogation on opposing sides of a debate, these sorts of strikes were bound to happen. It was as if they were playing verbal chess, and she had just hit the timer with an internal smirk of pride.

Nevertheless, he recovered quickly, shrugging, “it’s just what you do, people dance at weddings. I’ve been to about a million, I think I’d know.”

Amanda leaned across the island countertop, snagging an olive from the lineup of toppings he had arranged in tupperware. (Always smart to use plastic when feeding two children under the age of 7, as he had learned from his cousins and then re-learned with Jesse and Billie.) “Ah,” she said sarcastically, “but you’ve been to _Italian_ weddings. _Completely_ different ballpark, I have no reason to trust you.”

The two of them laughed. (He had gotten used to her small quips, and he never minded them; she was always careful never to be too harsh, especially after she heard what Judge Calhoun had called him earlier in the year.)

“Uh huh,” he rolled his eyes, turning away from the simmering sauce to yank the olives away from her. “You’re just scared.”

Before Amanda could reply, Jesse ran into the room with a passion. Her pigtails flying and her pajamas already on, she drifted into the room, practically skidding on her polka dot socks. “Uncle Sonny, Uncle Sonny!” she squealed, “have you done the pizzas yet?” 

“I was just about to, chef!” He grinned, effortlessly sweeping her up onto his hip. “You ready for this?” 

She nodded heftily, and Amanda couldn’t help but smile at Jesse’s “game-face.” Every Thursday night in the Rollins’ household was pizza night, and for the past few weeks, her oldest had been more than enthusiastic about helping out. As Dominick asked her what toppings she and Billie would be wanting, Amanda could see the cogs working in her daughter’s brain. She had been rambling for the past month all about how she was gonna be a chef, just like Uncle Sonny. (The both of them had explained to her that his real job was a prosecutor, putting bad guys away, but Jesse seemed to believe that his role as ADA was more of a side gig.)

“I’ll go grab Billie,” she informed the pair, and Dominick’s eyes met hers in a warm gaze. Just as quickly as he had looked away, he turned back to Jesse, who was looking up at him as attentive as could be.

“So, are _you_ excited for the wedding?” He nudged her with his shoulder, and Amanda rolled her eyes affectionately as she walked away.

*****

Although it took longer than usual, what with all the excitement of pizza night, Jesse and Billie had _finally_ fallen asleep. The clock read 9:19pm, and Amanda and Dominick were standing in the dim kitchen, only the stove’s overhead light and a few candles lighting their work. She was wiping down the countertop as he scrubbed away at the dishes in the sink, all to the tune of idle chat in low voices so as not to wake the girls.

“Shit,” Amanda suddenly cursed under her breath, “I forgot. I have to get my dress hemmed.” She glanced at the time on microwave. “I’ll have to call them tomorrow morning.”

Dominick, who had turned off the faucet and now faced her directly, thought for a moment. “Rollins,” he started slowly, “why won’t you dance at the wedding?” Then, before she could argue, he continued, “no bullshit. Be honest with me.”

She bit her tongue, opting rather to just stare at him annoyed. Then, she sighed. 

“I can’t dance,” she replied, ejecting a bitter laugh from her throat. “Never learned.”

Dominick took a moment to process, turning her words over in his head, before he couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Carisi!” Amanda hissed, her voice surprised, “what are you- why is that funny?” She couldn’t help but begin to laugh as well, and she managed to get out, “you’re gonna wake the girls if you don’t stop that!”

Dominick took a few breaths, calming himself down, before walking over to Amanda and taking the cleaning rag from her hands. Still grinning, in a way that made Amanda feel a little dizzy, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. 

“ _That’s_ the reason you’re not gonna dance?”

She felt slightly sheepish, and shrugged her shoulders in admittance. Dominick absentmindedly reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping to get a better look at her.

“‘Manda, I could teach ya, easy,” he said, and she scoffed.

“It’s not a big deal, Sonny,” she muttered, “I don’t care.”

He raised his eyebrows, before shaking his head matter-of-factly. “C’mon,” he said, taking her hand in his and pulling her gently towards the middle of the kitchen. She laughed uncomfortably, but let him drag her closer to the stove’s light.

“C’mon, Dominick, this is stupid,” she sighed, but he glanced at her; there was a question in his eyes. He was asking, wordlessly, _are you okay with this?_ She stared back up at him, his slight stubble, his kind gaze, the little creases around his eyes and the bridge of his nose. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to dance with him, not at a wedding, not in front of anybody but the framed picture of the four of them hanging above the sink. So she shoved down her embarrassment, the instinctual fear that she felt every time she let her guard down. She took a deep breath, and gave a small nod.

He was holding her hand gently, skin soft as always, and he delicately pushed her arm up to rest atop his shoulder. He then swept across her back with that same hand, and she felt it settle nicely midway down her spine. With his left, he let it slip into hers, their palms fitting together like puzzle pieces. He did this all as if it was nothing, as if these were the places his limbs were meant to be, and she felt a hitch in her throat.

Ignoring it, she mumbled, “okay, now what?”

She had looked down at their feet pointed towards each other, his argyle socks and her slippers, but she could still feel his gaze burning into her. 

“Now,” he said quietly, “we step.” He moved his left foot ever so slightly, and she matched the motion with utmost hesitance. Still clutching his hand, she glanced up, intending to look for only a moment to ensure that she was doing so correctly.

When she did so, their eyes met, the flickering of the candles casting golden shadows across his face. He was looking at her with incredible affection, soaking in every detail of her face, the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders like water, the dangerous blues of her eyes and the kiss of crimson on her cheeks. 

“Like that?” she whispered, not meaning to speak so softly but afraid to break the bubble that had formed around them.

“Yeah,” Dominick nodded, but he sounded unsure of what they were discussing. “Just like that.”

Both of them leaned in at the same time, intentions unclear, still frozen in their dance position, but they continued to sink into one another until the space between them had fully closed. He shifted his chest closer to make up for the distance, and her arm slid across his shoulderblades without a thought. Their lips locked in place, and neither wanted to pull away. The scent of aftershave, the gentle graze of his cheeks; the honey chapstick that she always wore, the softness of her skin… Amanda hadn’t realized she had been dying to do this since the night began. Dominick, alternately, had known all along.

And as the candles flickered and their clasped hands dropped, neither one was thinking about the wedding.


	2. loved you three summers now, honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the hottest day of the summer, and the ice machine in Amanda's fridge is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! i hope your weekend has been lovely! please enjoy this chapter- (im ready for the summertime, if you can't tell)

If Amanda had known that July 24th was going to be the hottest day of the year, she’d have bought ice the day before.

Unfortunately, that sort of hindsight was no good when it was noon on a Saturday and your daughters were begging to go to the public pool, unaware that it was still closed, the ice maker in the freezer was broken, the air conditioner in the building wouldn’t be fixed until next weekend, and all that the teenager working at the convenience store around the corner could do was apologize for the  _ devastating _ lack of ice bags. 

Walking into the apartment defeated, she delicately placed Billie down on the blanket spread across the floor. Jesse sprinted in, only to dramatically sprawl herself across the ottoman, moaning with despair, “mama, it’s HOT.”

Sighing and wiping the sweat from her brow, Amanda muttered, “yeah, I know, Jess.”

“Do we have any popsicles?”

“After lunch,” Amanda replied, “you may have  _ one _ .”

Jesse groaned, somehow managing to flail her little limbs even more. She was beginning to have a flair for the dramatic.

“Damnit,” Amanda cursed at the heat, before making her way to the kitchen sink. She ran the water as cold as it could get, and splashed it on her face a few times. She then soaked a paper towel and approached Billie, who was rolling a small ambulance back and forth along the wooden floor. She gently wiped the towel across her daughter’s forehead.

Jesse rolled off the ottoman with all the melodramatic passion of a 1920s film star, and Amanda struggled not to laugh as her daughter slinked towards the fridge. Mustering all of her strength, Jesse gripped the handle and pulled it open, earning a cautionary “hey, Jess, be careful.”

Jesse whined, “it’s  _ hot _ , mama,” and Amanda rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I know, honey, I heard ya.”

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose with the back of her wrist. In a second, she would have to tell Jesse, who was now sitting perched on her knees (looking unladylike in her yellow sundress, but Amanda was sure she got that from her mother) with her head leaning against the box of Capri Suns on the inside refrigerator door, that she was letting the cold air out. She racked her brain for what she could do; make lunch, that’s the first step. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, throw some baby carrots (or applesauce for Billie) on the plate, they’d be all set. Then what? With heat like this, books and board games could only go so far. The day was moving like molasses, the second hand on the clock seeming to take twice as long to make its rounds. 

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Amanda thought she might have imagined who walked through. Dominick, suit coat draped over his arm and the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to the elbows, entered the apartment with a grin that she thought impossible in 95℉ weather. He dropped his briefcase on the floor, hung his coat on the rack, then strolled over to Jesse to effortlessly sweep her up off the tile. She laughed happily, all of her dramatics washing away instantly, as she squealed, “Uncle Sonny!”

With his free hand as he propped the girl on his side, he gently closed the fridge door and smiled at Amanda affectionately. He then turned back to Jesse; “Hey, kiddo!” he tousled her hair, “Nice weather we’re having, huh?”

Amanda couldn’t help but grin as well as she pushed herself up off her knees. “Sonny, what are you doing here?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I thought you had arraignment court.”

He scoffed as he positioned Jesse on the countertop. (This was her favorite place to sit- Amanda had initially tried to oppose this, but the joy that lit up Jesse’s face whenever she could be nearly eye-level with her and Dominick was too adorable to pass up.) “The air conditioning in the courtroom stopped workin’,” he responded, “so they pushed it to Monday. Can ya believe it?”

Amanda gaped at him, nodding, “uh, yeah, I can believe it. Are you feelin’ what I’m feelin’ here?”

He glanced around, before realization hit his face. “Not you guys, too?”

She gave a head tilt that could only mean  _ yup. Believe it _ . 

“And there’s no ice at the corner store,” she sighed, leaning in for Dominick to kiss her on the cheek. The stubble of his chin brushed against hers, and despite the overwhelming warmth, she didn’t mind this slight transference of body heat. 

He raised an eyebrow. “What about the ice maker?”

She smiled bitterly. “Broken, and the repair guy can’t make it ‘til Tuesday.”

Dominick shrugged in confusion, and said casually, “why don’t I take a look at it?”

Amanda furrowed her eyebrows, attempting to piece together a sentence that wouldn’t come across as hurtful. “No offense, Sonny,” she replied sheepishly, “I don’t usually ask prosecutors to fix my refrigerator. I leave it to the professionals.”

He rolled his eyes with a grin that was soaked in mock understanding. “I get it,” he said sarcastically, “just ‘cause I wear suits means I’m good for nothin’, huh?”

Amanda immediately put a hand on his shoulder, looking up at him in earnest. “Hey, Dominick,” she began, “you know I didn’t mean-”

“I’m  _ kidding _ , Amanda,” he started to laugh. Relief flooded her chest, and she smacked his arm. “But seriously, let me take a look. I used to fix the fridge when I was in high school all the time.”

“Uncle Sonny,” Jesse piped up enthusiastically from her seat on the counter, “mama says we can have popsicles after lunch!”

Before Amanda could reply, Dominick squared himself in front of Jesse and gave a skeptical squint. “Popsicles as in more than one? Because if I’m remembering the household rules correctly, you’ve got a limit, missus.”

Amanda grinned at the two of them and waved a finger at her now-giggling daughter. “Trying to trick Uncle Sonny, are we?” she said with a smirk, and cautioned, “you know he puts the bad guys away, Jess, he can see through a lie like it’s nothin’.”

Laughing, Dominick pushed his shirt sleeves up even higher, turning towards the fridge. “Alright, whaddaya say we get this thing up and runnin’ again, huh, girls?”

*****

Despite it feeling like another 10 years, the clock swore that only 30 minutes had passed before a sequence of familiar thuds came from the freezer. Those thuds were distinctly recognizable; they meant ice was clanging into the tray.

Amanda was sitting on the blanket where she and the girls had set up a makeshift lunch spread. Carrots with ranch, applesauce, four PB&Js, and some juice pouches were arranged in the center, alongside a high stack of napkins and paper plates. Jesse had insisted they wait for Uncle Sonny to eat, so she was happily sharing her ten-millionth story about something she had seen, done, or heard at school that week. Now, looking up at Dominick, Amanda gaped in amazement at the sounds of ice being made. He took a step back, glancing at the freezer with a similar amount of surprise, before turning towards her with a huge, triumphant grin.

“We’re back in business!” He declared, and Jesse began to clap loudly.

Amanda stood up and walked towards him in disbelief, stuttering, “how did you do that? I’ve- I’ve tried everything, how did you manage to fix it?”

He only wiggled his eyebrows and put the wrench on the countertop (atop a rag he had already laid down for the purpose- always careful, that one was). Amanda laughed, shaking her head, before she kissed him suddenly. As their lips met, she felt his goofy grin fade into a soft smile, and she pulled away after a moment to see him gazing at her with fondness.

“Thank you, Sonny,” she said sincerely, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’re a lifesaver.”

He seemed at a loss for words, just for a second. (Amanda found that this happened quite often when she kissed him. It was as if he was surprised, all over again, every time. Like he had forgotten that she chose him long before, and it felt miraculous that she had.) Then, he replied, “anything for the Rollins girls.”

And with that, he joined them on the blanket in the middle of floor for an impromptu family picnic.


End file.
